Bittersweet Moments

4 | Moist Chocolate Cakes

4 | Moist Chocolate Cakes

It was Sunday today.

I sauntered – yes, sauntered – to the wide opening between the kitchen and the counter to get another plate of pie. Make those two plates of pie. I balanced both plates on my hands and delivered them to table number seven, a young couple.

Because I felt like it today, I was dressed in the shop's uniform blouse and a pair of skinny jeans with my usual apron. My hair was tied up in a neat bun covered with a hairnet. My job today was to wait tables, because the shop was busier on weekends.

I suddenly missed Mitch. She was volunteering (or was convinced to volunteer by her mom) at the animal shelter today, part of her weekly duties. If she were here, she'd be blabbing my ear off while enjoying a cup of banana and pineapple shake. I sighed as I picked up another order.

"Ollie, please come with me," Mom said as she walked past me. She was dressed differently today: in a simple white blouse and jeans. Her blonde hair was in a cook's bun as usual, but she didn't have a hairnet and apron.

"Aren't you helping in the kitchen?" I arched an eyebrow at her. "And I'm supposed to work at the ice cream station today, remember?"

She took my wrist in one hand after I managed to hurriedly give the order. "The station is closed every Sunday," she said, "And we'll take a break."

Are you really my mother?

Mom dragged me upstairs, leading to our home. Then, we went to the kitchen counter. I spotted a manila envelope sitting on it. She took it and opened it, but stopped midway.

She looked at me, "Don't look at me like that." She must've seen my look of disbelief. But can you blame me?

"Like what?" I asked innocently.

"Like I've been possessed," she said. "Anyway, this is important and will be quick – depending on how you react – "

I cut her off, "Depending on what – "

Then she cut me off, "then you're going back to the shop."

I eyed the fresh white papers in her hands. Suspicious. "What are those?" She slid them to me, across the counter.

Damn, is it just me, or is this like one of those movies?

My eyes were glued to the all caps large sized word on the top printed in bold: CONTRACT.

"What's this?" I asked Mom as I absentmindedly scanned the paper. I realized it wasn't only one sheet of paper, but several, stapled together.

Mom pursed her lips before answering, "Your father wanted to explain and give it to you after dinner last night. But since you stormed off, I thought it was best that I give it to you."

I flipped the pages, not really reading the text. Only glancing at a few random words – like what I usually do when studying. "Have you read this? What's this all about?"

Is my father taking me with him? Did he sign me up in a contract for Hollywood? Filed a case against me?

Mom took a deep breath. No uh, that wasn't good.